The G Spot
by kraftykathy
Summary: Sherlock has a ticklish problem. A short sequel to They Both Have a Type.


**A short sexy story to accompany They Both Have a Type.**

**Ahhhhh, I wrote this all tonight. I usually don't post something without staring at it for half a century looking for errors, so please, please accept my apologies if they are distracting. I just have to post this fast and runaway giggling with amusement and shame with what I have created. Eeeeks! I feel so bad! Bad llama!**

**I don't own anything!**

Sherlock's abrupt return to London began with the excitement of Moriarty's confounding message broadcast across the nation. But upon his return, the investigation was brought to a stand still, with no evidence leading a path to the sneaky little spider, nor any criminal purporting to be the psychopath for that matter. Thus Sherlock went instantly from exiled murderer, to intensely bored man with many restrictions placed on his freedoms until some decisions could be made.

He was under a level of surveillance of which the likes he had never experienced. He was permitted to travel within only a small part of the city. Even his computer access was limited to that of a typical internet user. The horror! Mycroft had emphasized the importance of avoiding any hacking if he wished to continue evading his exile.

It wasn't long before Sherlock found himself at Molly Hooper's door. Before the unfortunate events of Appledore, Sherlock and Molly had a very unexpected but perfectly enjoyable physical encounter. Recent events had made it impossible for him to contact Molly though he found that he really did want to examine this further. Now the opportunity had presented itself and Sherlock Holmes was not going to let it pass!

As it turned out Molly was most amendable to proceeding with the physical manifestation of their relationship and soon they were lost in the physicality of their union. In other words, like any couple new to the sexual part of their relationship, they were bound and determined to shag each other silly.

One evening when Molly had set her mind to kissing every delicious inch of a certain sexy consulting detective, she found herself happily licking, sucking and kissing her way around his torso. That was when she found the spot.

Sherlock was lying on his stomach across her bed as she draped her self across his back, kissing and licking her way down, making a slow but determined path where she intended to nip his lovely bum cheek. She knew he liked that! She was just licking her way along his lower back near his left flank, Sherlock's low moans music to her ears. She kissed a place just above his hip bone and that was when she found it.

Sherlock squealed like a little girl, much to Molly's amusement.

"What the hell was that?" She asked lifting her head in shock.

"Nothing. Just a bit ticklish. Keep going!" He was glancing back at her over his shoulder and she thought he looked ravishing with his pale skin now flushed pink from her attention. She looked down at the spot once more. Three freckles framed the place like a target and she decided that this was an experiment that needed to be repeated! She swirled her tongue against his skin and this time his body convulsed and he emitted a shrill giggle. Once again it was impossibly high pitched and well . . .girly.

"Oooh, I think I've struck gold!" Molly whooped.

"Is that so, Molly?" He replied teasingly. "Well two can play at that game!" With cat like grace he managed to switch their positions so that Molly was flat on her back and Sherlock straddled her, knees on either side of her arms, gently but effectively pinning them against her body. His cock stood jauntily erect just above her bare breasts. Molly thought it was an intriguingly lovely sight.

"Now where is Molly Hooper's ticklish spot?" He wondered. "The tickling sensation is the analysis of two regions of the brain, as you know. The somatosensory cortex is responsible for analyzing touch. The anterior cingulated cortex governs pleasure. Isn't that so?" He looked at her with an evil grin and an arched brow.

"I'm not ticklish, Sherlock. You might as well give it up right now." She smiled up at him.

"I think I will be the judge of that. SO are you ticklish in the typical zones? Traditional vulnerable areas are the most common locations. The neck and underarms are sensitive. It is instinctual - we are programed to protect these areas as they harbour major veins and arteries. As these parts of the body are less often touched, they become sensitive. Let's see, shall we?"

He hopped off of Molly and began to experiment with tickling. He tried brushing her neck gently with his fingertips. Molly sighed in reaction, but no laughter. He blew across her neck and her breathing came in quicker gasps. But no giggles. He could easily elicit the sounds of arousal from Molly, but he could not make her squeal in laughter by tickling.

But he was determined and proceeded with his search. It was important to be thorough with these things! He continued his experiment trying various techniques on different parts of her body until he found him self waggling his fingers with no effect at all, on the soles of her feet. Finally he had to concede, at least until he could acquire some ammo, such as feathers perhaps?

"Ha, I told you!" Molly gloated.

Sherlock hopped back up on the bed and pinned her down once again. Molly was just able to wiggle her hand up beneath him and poke at his sensitive spot. She hit it dead on, and was rewarded with another shrill giggle and the fetching sight of him collapsing flat on his back.

Molly took this opportunity to climb on top of him and fuck him into the mattress.

Over the next few days Molly reveled in her new power and used it ruthlessly.

"You know," She told him one morning over a breakfast of the previous nights take away (they had not often left Molly's bed and so supplies were getting low) "I feel like I've found your Kryptonite!"

If Molly thought she was going to catch Sherlock with a confusing pop culture reference she was pleasantly surprised by his response.

"When Superman is exposed to Kryptonite it drains his super powers leaving him prone to attacks. Whereas you have the power to make me giggle. Hardly the same thing." He said with a quirk of a smile pulling at his lips. He scooped rice into Molly's mouth before she could make a cheeky reply.

Still, she took every opportunity to play with the new power dynamics. She knew she had discovered a very important dominance over him and there was no end to her amusement when she touched the spot as the passed one another in the hall outside her bedroom. She could make him collapse to the floor with a touch and he fell, giggling and clutching his belly. Sometimes he was able to pull her down with him so he could punish her with his tongue, beginning with it stuck deeply in her mouth and ending with it swirling around her clit until she was grunting and breathless. Sherlock took some satisfaction that he could at least get her to make these kinds of sounds!

Molly found the perfect name for Sherlock sensitive spot one morning when his cock was buried deep within her and he was pounding into her in a most delightful way. Molly got the naughty idea to touch him on his ticklish spot at that very moment. Her hands had been firmly grasping his bottom helping him slam into her and she brought one bad little hand up and tickled. The result was magnificent! Sherlock screeched and came, ejaculating explosively!

Afterward, Molly rolled on the bed clutching her belly and laughing deeply. Sherlock just lay there in a daze trying to recover his thought process after recently losing all cognizance.

Molly dubbed it Sherlock's "G" spot, both because of the way it made him giggle and the fact that under the right circumstances she could use it to trigger an instantaneous orgasm. Sherlock made his own stipulation that she could only use it the latter way after he had made her come first.

Two weeks after Sherlock's four minute exile, it was decided that he could return to work on cases with some restrictions applied. He was all too happy to take on cases even if they only ranked a weak 5 at the most. Besides, he had many ideas that he hoped to try out on Molly, and more involved cases might distract him from this latest obsession.

Although he was not at all ashamed of his involvement with his most alluring pathologist, he hadn't exactly taken the time to inform John of recent developments, either. He had been rather too distracted to mention it. In fact he had hardly seen his friend since his return.

John was quite busy with his own life at the moment. He and Mary were making progress in repairing their relationship and were spending every minute together. And Mary's rapidly approaching due date had them both in a state of giddy anticipation. Now that they could properly focus on the baby, John couldn't keep his hands off of Mary's belly. He had missed so much of this kind of intimate involvement with the development of his child, he intended to thoroughly enjoy every last second of this pregnancy with his wife!

But eventually a day came when Sherlock needed John's help on a case and they subsequently found themselves at Bart's lab pouring over hair and fibre samples, evidence from their current case.

"Look John. The fibre was indeed from Mrs Huntington's alpaca sweater, precisely as I thought and not from Dr. Gowland's Cocker Spaniel!" The consulting detective gloated once again over his superior abilities, while his friend stifled an urge to punch the idiot.

Molly flitted here and there in the lab going about her business as usual.

"Either way, the case is closed. If I run, I might be able to catch up with Greg before he leaves." John took the paper work from Sherlock and hurried out of the room. Just as the door closed, Molly walked by Sherlock, appearing to be absorbed with the file in her hand. But as she passed Sherlock, her other hand reached up and quickly poked his sensitive spot. Sherlock couldn't suppress a shrill giggle.

John poked his head back in the door.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" Sherlock feigned ignorance while shooting Molly a dark look. She just kept walking, pretending continued engrossment with the document in her hand. A closer look might have revealed a very slight smirk. Sherlock immediately made a silent promise to punish the little vixen later that night. He was sure he could think up something clever that would have her making all kinds of delightful sounds.

"I just heard a sound." John stated. "A girl - a very little girl - giggling?" John looked at Molly but she just glanced up briefly from her work.

"Wasn't me, John." The picture of innocence. Sherlock had to admire her deviousness.

John looked at Sherlock. Sherlock stared back. "Really John? Do I look like I could possible make the sound of a little giggling girl?" He decided to roll his eyes and make a huffy sound to throw John off the scent.

John just narrowed his eyes at his friend and said, "No, I guess not." And left without further comment.

Later that night Sherlock carried out his plan to make Molly squeal and it was equally enjoyed by both participants.

The following week, John stopped by 221B for a visit and to consult with Sherlock on some possible cases he had received through his blog. It was a pleasant afternoon and Mrs Hudson even sat with them for a short while after she brought up the tea tray. When she returned to her flat later, John made ready to leave.

"Well Sherlock," he said pulling on his jacket, "I have to say, you seem rather relaxed, you know, considering the kind of cases we've had lately. Not exactly challenging, yeah?"

"Is it really that difficult to believe that I am capable of finding other means to engage my intellectual prowess." Sherlock avoided eye contact knowing John would be like a hound on a scent if he let on any sign of his new sexual involvement with Molly. He knew he should probably just bluntly state the facts and be done with it, but he knew he would be in for some relentless ribbing when it came out. Maybe he would tell him next time. Yes, that sounded like a good idea!

"Maybe not." John continued, "But you _are _the man who shot holes in the wall, right? Should I be on the look out for your cigarette stash? Or something worse, and if there is, so help me, I'll-"

"Oh for God's sake John, It was for a case!" Sherlock stood towering over his friend, glowering down at him menacingly.

"Weeell," John drawled. "Maybe. But there is _something _going on and-" Suddenly John's hand shot out around Sherlock's waist and poked his sensitive spot which resulted in his high pitched shriek as he collapsed back into his chair.

John doubled over in laughter.

"Oh Ha ha ha ha. It worked, I can't believe it! Ha hahahaha!" Tears were streaming down John's face which was turning beet red.

"How? What? How?" Sherlock spluttered. And then it came to him. "Molly!"

It took some time before John was capable of speech but finally his laughter subsided enough to permit words.

"You know, when you enlisted Molly's help, to get me drunk and fix my marriage? Turns out we got on pretty well. She's a good friend. She told me that things were heating up between the two of you. I had a hard time believing it was possible. You know, married to your work and all, right? So she told me about your _ticklish _problem." John seemed quite tickled himself, with his revelations. "You know, you don't have to hide this thing with Molly. She's good for you, right?"

"I know that, John, I was going to tell you." Sherlock looked rather surprisingly chagrined.

"Right. And when were you going to tell me?"

"Uh, Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow. Right." John looked at Sherlock with more than a hint of skepticism.

John made his way to the door and turned back briefly, a good-natured smile playing at his lips. "Oh, and don't hurt Molly or I_ will_ have to punch you again."

Sherlock returned the smile. "I have no intentions of doing so. Besides, you both know my weak spot. It's best I keep on your good side from now on." Sherlock replied.

With that they both laughed and John made his way down the stairs.

Sherlock sat there for awhile thinking how it really wasn't such a terrible thing to have his relationship with Molly made public. But because she had informed John of his ticklishness she would have to pay. Oh yes, there were so many ways to make his sweet Molly moan and squeal. He couldn't wait until she got home that night so they could begin!

**A/N – I edited to fix some of the spelling mistakes I missed (I don't know when I will learn the difference between were and where, duh!) I just loved the idea that Mr. Cool always in control would have a spot that would reduce him to shrill giggles and lose of ability to control his own body. Wouldn't that be just aDORable?!**

**I have this as completed, but maybe I will change that to add other cutesy, smutty fluff? Whaddyathink? Any reviews or criticisms? It's my first smutty bit of writing. Did I do okay? I know, I know, I'm fishing. Bad llama!**


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